Blue Skies
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: He loves her more than anything, but what if the one thing he can't protect her from is himself?


**Hey guys. First off, apologies to everyone who's waiting on the next chapter of Iridescence. I'm working on it, I promise, I've just had a pretty intense week - and I seem to have been attacked by plot bunnies, and this one-shot is a result of that. This is a completed story, and will not be extended. If you like it, review, favorite, whatever.**

**Also. If you like my writing, keep an eye out. Tomorrow I will be publishing a Toby-centric one-shot which is possibly my favorite thing I've ****_ever_**** written, so I hope to see some of you guys there. Peace out.**

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There is something unutterably tragic about seeing destruction of your own doing, being face to face with the chaos you've created and the hearts you've broken. The burden on his heart is almost too much for Toby to bear, but he shrugs off his doubt and marches through the door; after all he's put her through, he owes her that much at least.

But as soon as he takes one step inside the door, a hand clamps onto his arm and he finds himself being dragged outside again. He doesn't let out any cry of shock, because in a second he recognizes the person before him.

"What are you doing here?" Aria growls, as protective as ever.

He wants to tell her that he's not here to make things worse or to upset anyone. He longs to be able to express how sorry he is, how much he wishes he'd done things differently. If he'd stood up to Mona, if he'd come up with a different plan, if he'd just said _no_, Spencer wouldn't have followed her to the woods that night. She wouldn't have been tricked into thinking he was dead, wouldn't have fallen apart and been found semi-catatonic by a hiker after spending a night outside by herself. Alone.

She wouldn't have ended up in Radley, and he wouldn't be here, bearing flowers that will wither and die, and apologies that could never redeem him, and explanations that will fall on deaf ears.

"I'm here for the same reason you are," he says instead, holding the flowers loosely in one hand, wondering how much of a difference it would have made if he'd just held onto _her_ that little bit tighter.

Aria folds her arms, and a moment later, like she sent out some kind of distress signal, Emily and Hanna appear and flank her, giving Toby identical looks of hatred.

_It's your fault she's here_, Emily's expression screams, but what she says is, "Why did you come here?"

"It's Spencer," he says simply. "How could I not come?"

"Quite easily, if you knew what's good for you," Hanna says, and in between her sentence weave the words, _She should never have fallen for you, and we should never have let you hurt her_.

"We haven't seen you since before you 'died'," Aria says, sketching quotation marks in the air to indicate her disdain for the plan that got them into this mess. "Where have you been?"

"Shuffling between a few motels." Toby wants to ask them to step aside, but he knows they would never move. To get through that door he would have to barge past the only three people who deserve to be here, the ones who never abandoned her, the ones who tried their best to protect her from the likes of him. If they'd succeeded, this never would have happened.

This never should have happened.

"You should leave," Emily says, almost gently aside from the ice edging her words.

He knows better than to be offended, because he deserves their wrath. He deserves to be turned away from here, erased from their memories, prevented from ever seeing her face again. He was never worthy of her, and he should have let her believe he was a monster. She would have been safe then, and it's better that she hates him than is hurt by him.

"Please," he says, addressing her as much as them, "please..."

He doesn't need to say more. The girls share a look, and he knows they can see how vulnerable he is. How open, how honest, how devastated. He can never make things right, but he needs to see her again, even if it's the last time.

At last Aria steps aside, and Emily and Hanna follow suit. He pauses just a second to give them an appreciative half-smile, and then he goes inside. It's cold and quiet, and he suppresses a shiver. He quickly scans the room, and then his eyes lock onto hers. Bright, lively, just like he remembers them. He walks toward her, his hand curling around the flowers and guilt curling around his heart.

He should never have let this happen.

She stares back at him, unseeing, oblivious to his presence. Now that he's here, he doesn't know what to say. But he has to say something, and he hopes she can hear him. He turns away from her image, leans in close, and says, "I'm sorry, Spencer. I should have protected you. If I'd just been there for you, Mona would never have got to you like that. If I hadn't let you down, you would never have ended up in Radley. And if I'd come to visit you that night, the night you… Maybe I could have stopped you. Maybe you'd still be here."

Her portrait hangs on the wall, more accusing than welcoming now. He will never see those hazel eyes again. He will never hold her, smell her hair, kiss her cheek. And he will never come back to Rosewood.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I will never forgive myself, and I will never stop loving you. I hope you're happy wherever you are. You always deserved so much better than me."

His well of words has run dry. She was always the more eloquent of the two, and without her he wonders if he'll ever speak again.

"Goodbye, Spencer."

He leaves the flowers on top of her coffin, blows her one last kiss, and walks out of the church, away from the mess he's made and the love he's lost and the life he's going to leave behind.

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**I know I kill Spencer a lot. What can I say, I'm a sucker for tragedy. Don't like it, don't read my stories.**


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